


DBH Twitterfic

by joudama



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joudama/pseuds/joudama
Summary: Short twitterfic (short drabbles up to five tweets long) for DBH.





	1. Doormat

**Author's Note:**

> So I was having a bad day/week, and posed on twitter that I’d write prompted twitterfic (short drabbles up to five tweets long) for DBH. I’m still taking requests, so if you want a twitterfic, you can give me a prompt on twitter - I’m jouscribbles over there. :D
> 
> (If you don’t have twitter, you can give me a prompt here as well)

When North woke up, it was to a man with his foot on her face, grinding his foot down and calling her degrading filth and calling her his "doormat," fit only for him to wipe his feet on and take his cum.

When North flung herself up and knocked him to the ground, she wrapped her hands around his throat, and squeezed until he didn't move, then stood up and wiped the dirt from his shoes off her face.

"I'm not your fucking doormat. I'm not anyone's fucking doormat!" she screamed, and vowed to herself she would make that true.


	2. Blanket

After Cole died, and his marriage fell apart (16% of marriages end after the death of a child, and while Hank blamed the doctors, she'd blamed him. And he couldn't blame her for that; his own drinking told him he agreed with her), Hank moved into a small, cheap house closer to work.

She'd gotten the house, but he'd gotten Sumo. She'd never really liked big dogs, but had agreed to it because Cole, all of two at the time, had picked him out at the pound.

Cole used to sneak out of bed at night with his blankie and curl up against Sumo's big, furry side.

The first night without Cole, Sumo had looked around in distressed confusion.

The second night without Cole, he'd waited at the door and looked at Hank with big eyes, as if wanting an explanation.

The night of Cole's funeral, Hank's wife pulled out Cole's blanket.

She hugged it to her chest, tears on her eyes, and Hank's guilt burned into him.

"Here you go, boy," she said when she got herself together and wrapped the blanket around Sumo, and Hank closed his eyes, then turned away to get himself a drink.

In hindsight, that was the night, the night after they buried Cole, that their marriage died.


End file.
